


Horace Has Another Success

by islandsmoke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal Fingering, Forced Feminization, M/M, Object Insertion, Paddling, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandsmoke/pseuds/islandsmoke
Summary: Did you ever wonder how Snape learned enough self-control to become an effective spy?





	Horace Has Another Success

**Author's Note:**

> This was started for writcraft’s Severus Snape Kink Meme for the prompt: forced feminization but wasn’t completed in time, so I switched to Daily Deviant and the prompt: anal insertion.

~~~~

Horace Slughorn collected interesting people. He not only collected the best and the brightest, those who were well connected and those who would become well connected, he also collected some of the just plain _interesting_ ones.

Young Severus Snape was not well connected. He was bright enough, brilliant at potions, actually, but his personality was pricklier than a hedgehog and thus he might never grow to move in prestigious circles. Given his talent, Horace felt that was a shame. Oh, he wouldn't invite the boy into the Slug Club, but really… young Snape was… _interesting_. Not good looking, but if he put a little effort into his presentation, he wouldn't be bad. Maybe, Horace had thought, he just needed some coaching, a few hints on wardrobe and personal grooming, but when he had tried, in a fatherly, Head of House fashion, his advice was rebuffed with a look just short of a disrespectful sneer.

Young Mr. Snape needed to learn some manners.

As Severus' Head of House, Horace would be remiss if he didn't at least try to better prepare the young man for the world. Wouldn't he?

So, in spite of the fact that Albus rather frowned upon it – really, you'd think he suspected that Horace _enjoyed_ taking his paddle to firm, young buttocks – Horace had applied his worn wooden paddle to young Mr. Snape's narrow arse with all the vigour of a true believer in the old methods. What choice did he have, really? Detentions and threats didn't sway the young man, so Horace had to take things to the next level. And Merlin knew, Severus had certainly _looked_ more appealing as he begged for detention upon seeing the paddle removed from the desk drawer.

Oh, yes, Horace did like to see a young man drop his arrogance and smugness and beg for an alternative discipline. He loved to hear them beg for mercy as stroke after stroke of the paddle turned their bare buttocks first rosy, then a beautiful, deep, flaming red. Severus hadn't begged for mercy, however. After his first terror-filled attempt to avoid the punishment, he had clamped his teeth together and made not a sound. Even when the welts started to rise, and his eyes started to water, he endured the repeated smacks of the paddle against his buttocks and the tops of his thighs without a whimper. He was tough; Horace had to give him that.

In spite of the fact that Severus sat gingerly for days after his paddling, he continued to be sullen and petulant, to walk the knife-edge of rudeness, and to rebuff all Horace's attempts at mentoring. After the third paddling with no improvement in Severus' disposition, Horace knew even stronger measures were called for. This was the boy’s final year at Hogwarts, after all, and Horace’s last chance.

He ordered Severus to report to his office before breakfast.

Severus entered the office and closed the door. His expression was guarded and his movements were minimal as he came and stood in front of Horace's desk. Horace let him stand there while he finished his notes, and he had to admire the fact that Severus didn't fidget.

After a few minutes, Severus cleared his throat. "You wished to see me, Professor?"

_Oh, the arrogance!_

Horace put his notes and quill aside. "Severus, I don't believe we're making much progress." He got right to the point. "In spite of my best efforts to mentor you, your attitude and actions have not improved." _Was that the hint of a sneer?_ "I feel I must take drastic measures." _Ah,_ that _looked like a flicker of alarm._ "Remove your clothing, Mr. Snape."

Severus blinked. "All of it?"

"All of it, _Sir._ And that's correct." Horace opened the bottom drawer of his desk and rummaged around. "Quickly, now."

After a moment’s hesitation, Severus stripped, folding his clothes neatly and draping them over a chair. Finished, he once more stood before Horace's desk.

"Don't slouch, Mr. Snape." Horace tried not to stare at the young man's long, slim cock where it nestled over a pair of firm, plump bollocks. "Proper deportment can make the difference between success and failure. You must learn to _do as you're told_ , as well, without outward resentment and without even a _hint_ of your true feelings. You'll never get anywhere if you don't learn to dissemble."

He tossed an elasticised garment to Severus.

"What's this?" Severus frowned as he turned the item in his hands.

“What‘s this, _Sir?_ “ Horace scowled. "A girdle. Put it on."

Severus' eyebrows rose. "A _girdle_?" He appeared to choke. “Sir?”

"Yes," Horace tried to school his expression to neutral. "A lady’s elasticised under garment."

Severus formidable sneer was in full bloom. _"Ladies?_ … Sir.”

"That's right, Severus," Horace smirked. "It's time you learned some humility."

"You can't be…" Severus broke off when he looked at Horace's face, and without further comment, stepped into the garment and pulled it – not without some difficultly – up over his narrow hips. When he slipped his hand inside to adjust himself, Horace spoke.

"Up."

Severus looked confused.

Horace cleared his throat. "Bring your genitals _up._ Smooth them up against your belly."

Severus looked mutinous for a moment, then did as he was told.

_Good._

Once Severus had made himself as comfortable as possible within the close confines of the girdle, Horace rose and circled the desk, a lace-trimmed item in his hand.

"This is a corset."

Severus went momentarily slack-jawed.

"You will be wearing these garments all day."

"All _day?_ " Severus momentarily lost his calm.

"That's right, and if you are difficult about it, I assure you, I will make you wear them around the clock."

Severus opened his mouth, then, apparently realizing the consequences of wearing the garments in the dorm at night, he calmed himself.

"How long _do_ I have to wear them, Sir?"

_He’s learning!_

"All day, for a week. Then we'll see." Horace turned Severus by the shoulders and slid the short waist-cincher corset around him. He started fastening the laces. "Come to me after dinner and I'll decide. If you've done well," he jerked the laces tight, "I'll remove them for the night, and your dorm mates need never know."

Horace tied the laces and tucked in the ends. He then cast a charm that would disallow tampering.

"Now these," Horace handed him a garter belt and stockings.

"You're joking!" The words exploded out of Severus.

"Hardly, my dear boy." Horace continued to hold out the items until Severus took them. He waited, watching with interest as Severus struggled with the stockings, the corset making it difficult to bend. Horace was sure the effort would be good for the young man.

"And, finally, this," he handed Severus a wisp of silk and lace in emerald green.

"What is it, Sir?" Severus was genuinely curious as he turned the garment in his hands. His face was faintly flushed from the exertion of putting on the stockings and Horace thought that if he hadn't looked so rebellious, he would have been rather fetching.

"Its called a cami-knicker. Rather pretty, don't you think?" Severus gave him a look. "Go on, put it on."

With mutiny in his expression, Severus complied.

"Right, then. On with your other things and off to the Great Hall. Wouldn't want to miss breakfast!"

Severus gave him a look that spoke volumes, picked up his pants and after a moment of indecision, stuffed them in his book bag. He hurriedly donned his robes and shoes, grabbed his book bag and left the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Horace sighed, not just for what he was afraid might be the futility of his training, but also for the fact that he really, really, would like to…. No. Albus would never allow it, and the meddlesome bugger always knew _everything._

~*~

Friday evening saw Severus standing before Horace's desk, waiting in silence to be recognized. Horace put his grading aside and studied the young man. His posture was certainly much improved, and his defiance was more subtly expressed, but the sullen look was still there.

Horace sighed.

"You have not made the progress I had hoped for, Mr. Snape." Horace rose and was gratified by the flicker of alarm that was momentarily visible in the dark eyes. He walked around Severus slowly, studying the young man.

"Perhaps you should wear these garments over the weekend. What do you imagine your doom mates would think?"

There was real alarm in Severus' face now, and he licked dry lips. "Professor Slughorn…. Please…." The muscles of his jaw tightened as he tried not to beg.

Horace felt he had to be careful here; he felt Severus could be pushed too far, that too public a humiliation could have the opposite effect than the one for which he was striving. Severus, he felt, for all his attitude and obstinacy, was fragile.

But more was called for.

"I'll give you a choice, Severus." The young man blinked.

"You may choose your punishment: you may wear these undergarments in your dorm over the weekend – or you may receive another paddling." His throat went dry at the prospect.

Severus looked almost relieved. "I'll take the paddling."

Horace turned abruptly to retrieve the paddle from the desk, the haste of his movements having nothing to do with the sudden, painful tightening in his groin. He was a professor of long standing, after all, perfectly in control of himself.

"Remove your clothes, Mr. Snape." Horace retrieved the worn paddle from its nest in the bottom drawer, then watched as Severus pulled off robes, boots, cami-knicker, garter belt, stockings, and then turned so Horace could loosen the laces of the corset. He breathed a sigh as the garment fell away, then shucked off the girdle, leaned forward and braced his hands on the desk.

"Bend right over, I think, Mr. Snape. That's right, quickly now." The boy had thrown a look over his shoulder. "Fold your arms on the desk and put your head down."

_Oh, yes._

Horace drew the paddle back and let go, putting his Beater’s arm behind the swing. The impact sent the boy sliding forward on the desk, and Horace waited a moment while Severus collected himself and braced for the what was to follow. Blow after blow rained on that slim backside until Horace had to stop a moment to catch his breath. After all, he wasn’t as young as he once was.

He gazed in admiration at his handiwork while he rested, and without realizing what he was doing, he reached out and ran his free hand over that beautiful, fiercely-red backside. The skin was hot to the touch, and he smoothed his fingers lightly over the welts. Perhaps he did apply a little more pressure with his thumb, and perhaps he did push one swollen cheek to the side a bit, and perhaps he did get a view of that lovely rosebud hole, but it meant nothing. Certainly it didn’t deserve the look that young Snape threw over his shoulder at him.

_Dear Merlin! The boy is hard._

Horace caught a glimpse of Severus’ cock between his spread legs. Swollen, almost as red as his behind, it dripped a long, silver thread of precome halfway to the floor. His own cock hardened painfully.

_This won’t do at all!_

The Professor went back to his task, his task of teaching young Snape some manners, some humility, some respect. A heavy blow punctuated each thought, until Horace was winded and sweat beaded on his forehead.

Finally, he threw the paddle on his desk and turned away.

“You may go.” His voice sounded strained, even to himself.

There was a long moment of silence, then he heard Severus gather his things and leave, closing the door quietly.

Horace staggered to his chair and fell into it, tearing at his robes. A few firm pulls and he was coming, coming so hard he saw bright flashes of light behind his eyelids.

Completely spent, he slouched in his chair and thought about the situation. After a few minutes, he cleaned himself up, stood, and shook his robes back into place.

He didn’t think another paddling would be a good idea. Not if he didn’t want to end up incurring Albus’ wrath.

~*~

If he Flooed to Glasgow the next evening, and maybe had a dram more than he should in a Muggle pub there, well, why not? It was the weekend, wasn’t it? And if that charming young man offered to accompany him into the alley, well, why not? A fellow had to unwind, didn’t he? There was no harm done; certainly Albus couldn’t object, could he?

~*~

When young Mr. Snape presented himself in Horace’s office on Monday morning, the professor was feeling calm and in control. He had thought out the next step in Severus’ training.

“Clothes,” he waved his hand absently and was pleased when Severus complied without the slightest demur, draping his robes neatly over a desk.

Horace was certainly not the slightest off-footed to note that the young man worn nothing under his school robes.

“We are adding something to your wardrobe today, Severus.”

He was impressed that the young man’s face showed no reaction. _Maybe he really_ is _learning!_

Horace reached into the bottom drawer and brought out a small bundle wrapped in silk that he has brought from his private rooms that morning. He unwrapped it with deliberation, raising his eyes to watch Severus’ face as he removed the last layer of covering. Only a slight widening of his eyes and twitch of a jaw muscle altered that bland expression.

_So, he knows what a butt plug is, does he? I wonder…._

“Turn ‘round, now. Bend over.” He flourished his hand.

Severus complied, offering no resistance by word or action. Horace came around the desk, and after casting a light lubrication charm, took a deep breath, and started the insertion process. He spread Severus’ cheeks with one hand, clenching his teeth to keep from running a thumb over that tightly puckered entrance. He placed the tip of the plug against its target and inhaled sharply when the skin clenched and then relaxed. Horace pushed the plug in slowly, but firmly; it wasn’t large.

Once in place, he secured it with a charm and stepped back, wiping his hands unnecessarily on his handkerchief. He needed to do something with them to keep from reaching out.

“All right, then. On with your other things.” He turned his back as Severus started dressing, only participating when Severus turned to have his corset tied.

Horace watched Severus’ face as he slipped into the cami-knicker. There was no expression, per se, but his eyes shone and there was a slight flush to his cheeks as he smoothed the silk over his hips.

_Interesting._

That evening, when Horace removed the plug, he had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out and massaging that beautiful hole back into shape. It would be fine on its own. He wasn’t doing this for himself, after all.

~*~

The next morning, he had a larger plug waiting for Severus. He saw the boy’s Adam’s apple bob as he looked at it, but there was no other sign that he knew or cared about what was coming. Horace worked it in slowly, and when the boy straightened again he drew a deep breath, releasing it in something that almost sounded like a sigh.

Once Severus was dressed and gone, Horace cast a locking spell on his door and fell into his chair, cock already in hand. If he doubted, for a moment, the wisdom on continuing the boy’s training, Horace only had to remind himself of how well young Snape was progressing. The control he was learning, the obedience, surely that would serve him well in life.

Horace maintained iron control over the next few days, while he dealt with the young man. This was, after all, strictly a disciplinary action and not some sort of exercise in self-gratification. No, the students’ welfare was foremost, and as Mr. Snape was a member of his own house, he deserved to have Horace’s utmost care and attention in guiding his path to the future. It would be a dereliction of duty for Horace to do otherwise.

Horace was sure Dumbledore would see it that way, though he’d just as soon the Headmaster didn’t find out. Wouldn’t want to humiliate young Snape in front of the Headmaster, it might undo all Horace’s hard work.

The third time Horace inserted the large butt plug, something happened that unsettled him no end. Once young Snape had leaned over the desk, he had widened his stance and had reached back to spread his cheeks as if in invitation. Almost immediately, the young man had stiffened and snatched his hands away, as though the action had been unintentional. He had then folded his arms on the desk and braced his forehead against them. His body was rigid and only relaxed when Horace had started to work the plug in. He had kept his eyes averted through the entire rest of the procedure, and after Horace had completed his usual quick wank behind the locked door, he tried to push the vision from his mind.

It wasn’t easy.

Those long, slim fingers pressing into the spare flesh of that firm arse, pulling his cheeks apart to offer better access to that rosebud hole. No. Horace must not read anything into the action. It was clearly not something Severus had intended to do. It was just…. Well, Horace didn’t think it would do to allow his thoughts to go down _that_ road. That he had encountered the occasional young man in the past who had responded in a similar fashion to such discipline, well, it was just some sort of fantasy on their part. This was about discipline and character building, and certainly not about sex. If he had been known, once or twice, to engage in a little role-playing with willing young men of a certain type in the city, what of it? He was a Professor of Hogwarts, and a professional. Albus had simply not understood that time, it had all been a misunderstanding on the part of an impressionable and slightly hysterical adolescent, certainly. Not that he’d ever _done_ anything, of course, not really. He would never _harm_ a student, after all.

That evening when Severus came to his office, Horace had himself well in hand. It was of no consequence that the boy seemed to be dawdling over disrobing, that he seemed to be taking more time than usual removing his things and folding them carefully before piling them on a desk. Naked at last, Severus turned slowly, bending at the hips to brace himself on the desk and spreading his feet wide on the stones of the office floor.

Horace took a deep breath and reached for the plug. He worked it out gently, as always. He wasn’t lingering over the process; one did have to be careful.

When it was removed, Severus did not immediately straighten up. But Horace did not stare at the boy’s open hole, did not find himself reaching out and gently massaging the ring of muscle with his thumb. His thumb did not slip inside, did not feel the silky hotness of the muscles flex against his hand.

He didn’t – he couldn’t – he _wouldn’t_ – remove his thumb and slip two fingers inside that beautiful, welcoming hole.

Oh, but he did. He watched as his hand, like the hand of someone else, slipped two of its fingers inside that young body. The feel of it, the tight clasping muscles that seemed to draw his digits deeper, the heat, the softness, sent a surge of desire through his body that was so deep it couldn’t be denied.

He stroked his fingers in and out, pushing deep, marvelling at the blissful feel of it. He twisted his hand and crooked his fingers slightly, searching.

A jerk of muscles and a sharply bitten off cry told Horace that he had found his target. He stroked his fingers over the sensitive spot again, and saw Severus tremble as he fought for control.

_So beautiful._

Without directed thought, Horace’s free hand was fumbling in his robes. It wasn’t until he saw, as though he was just a spectator, the head of his cock approach that lovely behind, saw his fingers slip out of the seductive heat to make room for it, that he suddenly came to himself.

He started back as though burned, hastily shoving himself back into his robes.

“That will be all, Severus.” _Was his voice a little louder than need be?_ He cleared his throat. “I don’t think you need come back again.” He moved behind his desk. “Er. You’ve done well. That will be all.”

He glanced at Severus, who had straightened slowly. The intensity of the look the boy gave him seared into his soul, though it was delivered with no more expression than the slightest narrowing of those black eyes. After a split-second’s hesitation, Severus pulled on his clothes, grabbed his book bag and was gone in a swirl of black robes.

Horace dropped into his chair and wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow. This was not good.

_Would Severus say anything to Dumbledore?_

It was not that anything had happened, really, but he was dealing with the sensitive nature of an adolescent boy here, and one had to be careful not to be misunderstood. They could be so volatile, so passionate about things that really weren’t that important. Once they were older, more mature like Horace, they would see that so much of what had seemed monumental in their teen years was really just a series of inconsequential events.

Dumbledore could be unreasonable when it came to students, however, even ones who were of age.

Horace was certain that Severus would say nothing. And if he did, Horace could deny it. After all, who would Dumbledore believe? He winced. In this case, he didn’t want to find out. But no, Severus would say nothing, it would be too humiliating for him.

He straightened up and took a deep breath. Better just to go on as though nothing had happened. Nothing _had happened_ , after all.

~*~

The end of the week marked the start of the Christmas holidays. Severus, in an unprecedented move, went to the Malfoy’s for the hols while Horace visited with his sister in Cornwall.

The first day back was its usual raucous whirlwind. Students seemed to have forgotten everything that had transpired during the first half of the year, and they were more concerned about catching up with friends than getting back to work.

Horace watched young Severus closely. His posture was much improved now; he didn’t slink about as he used to, but strode through the halls with confidence, his head high. He no longer _twitched_ , nor looked around nervously. While there was the occasional outbreak of fury – which usually involved Potter or Black or both – Severus had his volatile temper almost completely under control. His sneer, while still formidable, was now only displayed occasionally, instead of being his normal expression as it had been previously. He was deferential to his professors, soft-spoken and obedient, and altogether seemed almost to have grown up over the holidays.

Horace was pleased to think he had been instrumental in bringing about this change. Yes, his regime of training had been good for the boy. He couldn’t help puffing up with pride when the others on staff spoke of the amazing changes in young Mr. Snape.

Yes, Horace had another success to add to his collection.

~~**~~


End file.
